


The Road to Fatherhood is Paved with Sass and Science Puns

by lesbianartemis



Series: Iron Dad, Spider Son, and their Dysfunctional but Nonetheless Amusing Family [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Bruce Banner Is a Good Bro, Campy, Ceiling Vent Clint Barton, Civil War Team Iron Man, Fix-It of Sorts, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Identity Porn, Identity Reveal, Iron Dad and his Spider Son, M/M, Not Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Compliant, POV Bucky Barnes, POV Tony Stark, Parent Tony Stark, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Precious Peter Parker, Protective Peter Parker, Sassy Peter, Secret Identity, Slow Burn, Team as Family, Tony Stark Feels, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, and he fucking gets one, bc thats canon and we all know it, like no team cap bashing at all but still it needs to be said that i am always team iron man, the angst is all in like one part and everything else is super fluffy because im trash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-28 02:21:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17778758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lesbianartemis/pseuds/lesbianartemis
Summary: So it turns out it's a little difficult to keep a secret identity in a tower full of spies, super soldiers, and literal gods. Good thing Peter has Tony to watch his back - although Peter would argue that he's the one watching Tony's back. Who else is going to force a stubborn genius and an oblivious super soldier to pull their heads out of their asses long enough to get together, after all?In which Hawkeye has a secret stash of glitter arrows for revenge purposes, Bruce just came for the science and got sucked into the crazy, and Peter isnotTony's kid, except that he kind of is.





	The Road to Fatherhood is Paved with Sass and Science Puns

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wildflowers_and_pomegranates](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wildflowers_and_pomegranates/gifts).



> So this work is a Valentine's gift for the light of my life, my Hufflesoulmate, my with-me-to-the-end-of-the-line bestie! She gave me the prompt of Avengers family with Iron Dad and Spider Son (that's canon and no one will tell me otherwise) + Peter still having his secret identity, and this is what happened. The story got away from me. Hope you like!

Though Bucky would be the first to admit that it was difficult to keep secrets from an ex-Hydra-assassin-slash-spy, he had to wonder if the little Spiderling was even _trying_.

“Hi, Mr. America – I mean Captain – I mean Mr. Captain?” a young, eager-looking boy with a mop of unruly brown hair who Stark had just introduced as “Peter Parker aka my unofficially adopted son, so you asshats better be nice to him” stuttered, eyes wide with something akin to hero worship. 

“Hi, son,” Steve said amusedly, holding a hand out to shake, and Peter shook it enthusiastically. Steve cocked an eyebrow, expression decidedly surprised. “That’s some grip you’ve got there, Mr. Parker.”

And the kid yanked his hand away quickly, face going an interesting shade of red. “Oh, uh, they had us practice handshakes at school, you know, for college interviews and stuff? Something about projecting confidence?” He laughed nervously, and Bucky’s eyes were drawn to where Stark was trying to hide a smile.

“Petey here is one of my interns for the summer, and he’s shows a lot of promise in – well, basically every scientific field, so I’ve decided to take him under my wing, as it were,” Stark explained, one hand coming to a rest on Peter’s shoulder protectively.

“Taking in a kid, Stark? Do we need to call child protective services?” Natasha called, gliding into the room and flopping down onto a couch, Barton right behind her and deliberately flopping down directly on top of the redhead, who let out a light _Oomf_ of protest.

“Excuse you, I am an _excellent_ parental figure – just ask Butterfingers, DUM-E, U, FRIDAY, and Viz,” Stark sniffed.

“You do realize you just listed off a bunch of robots and an android, right, Bucket of Bolts?” Barton questioned, grinning from his precarious position pinning what was arguably the world’s most dangerous spy. “Human children might work a bit differently.”

“Thanks for the input, Bird Brain, but Pete and I are gonna be just fine – much better than _you’re_ about to be – right, kid?” Stark prompted, and it seemed to take Peter a moment to realize he was being addressed, having been fascinatedly watching the verbal sparring match.

“O-oh, yeah, of course, Mr. Stark!” he rushed to reassure the older man, and if Bucky thought the kid had looked at Steve with stars in his eyes, it was _nothing_ compared to how the kid looked at Stark. 

“Was that a threat to my wellbeing?” Barton demanded, eyes narrowed, finger jabbing in Stark’s direction. “Because I’ll have you know I have some very creative places where I’ve hidden my arrows that are specifically tailored to the lot of you – imagine pink sparkles. Lots and lots of pink sparkles, and quake with fear, Tony.”

“The vent above my bed, the vent above _your_ bed, and the vent in the training room,” Stark recited boredly. “Creative is a strong word for you, Big Bird. Besides, _I’m_ not the one threatening you.” And at that, Stark grinned wickedly, steering Peter out of the room and towards his labs.

On their way out, they passed directly by Bucky, and Peter paused briefly, eyes darting down and latching onto shining metal before glancing back up to meet Bucky’s. “Cool arm,” Peter grinned, turning to be led away by Stark, and Bucky’s eyes widened, mind connecting the words immediately to the last time he’d heard a similar sentiment. _Oh god, it couldn’t be – that was the Spider-Man he’d fought at the airport? Dear lord, he’s just a child!_

He watched Peter’s back as he and Stark retreated, distantly hearing a scuffle followed by Barton’s indignant squawk behind him when Natasha undoubtedly asserted her dominance once more.

“Told you,” Stark called over his shoulder.

 

 

After that, the Spider-kid became a regular fixture around the Tower, sliding into their lives with bright smiles, excited chattering, and enthusiastic gestures. He seemed to have a strange fascination with Bucky’s arm, and Stark had had to drag the kid away from where he’d practically latched on to the ex-assassin with an exasperated but fond roll of his eyes and an apologetic wink at Bucky more than once. And, for whatever reason, it seemed like Bucky had been the only one to notice Peter’s unnaturally fast reflexes or how his voice was _literally the exact same_ as the Spider-child’s.

Seriously, he lived with two super spies and a genius scientist (although admittedly it was difficult to get Bruce to poke his head out of his lab very often), and none of them could make the connection? Bucky was starting to worry a bit for the fate of the world when the next threat came along. 

“And Ned told the computer science teacher about how artificial intelligence was basically a bunch of code with self-directed learning capabilities, and the teacher said that wasn’t possible, but Ned said yes it was, and then the teacher said he wanted Ned to write a 2,000 word paper over how that could be possible since Ned was so convinced – so do you think Ned could come talk to FRIDAY, please, Mr. Stark?” Peter asked all in one breath, and Bucky blinked, bemused. 

“Sure, Petey,” Stark acquiesced easily without looking up from where he was working on Bucky’s arm, brow furrowed in concentration and motor oil streaked across his forehead from where he’d probably unwittingly wiped it. Bucky was seated in his usual chair in the lab, Stark hovering over him.

“YES!” Peter crowed, punching the air and beaming. He’d been sitting in on a lot of Bucky’s maintenance sessions lately, and Bucky wasn’t sure if that was intentional due to the kid’s interest in his arm or just a side effect of the fact that the kid was basically always around, following Stark like a little nerdy duckling. 

“You’re such a softie, Stark,” Bucky snickered, and the billionaire stuck his tongue out at him. 

Bucky had to say Stark was _not_ what he’d been expecting; he remembered Howard a little bit, and the impression he’d always gotten from Howard was of a man with too much power and ego for his own good. Stark seemed both the same and different – power and some degree of ego, sure, but tempered so much by a desire to do _good_ above all else that his showmanship and arrogance seemed to be more of a front to give people what they expected than anything else. He was surprised to find that he and the engineer had begun to form a friendship – one mostly based on snark and mutual enjoyment for teasing the mickey out of Steve, but a friendship nonetheless. 

“Mr. Stark is just generous,” Peter piped up, beaming adoringly at the inventor. 

“Hey it’s no skin off my back if Ned wants to chatter at FRIDAY – as long as it’s not at me,” Stark tried to brush them off, but Peter just shook his head, grin still firmly in place. Bucky decided to say what they were both thinking.

“You’da said yes if he’d asked _you_ to answer all’a Ned’s questions, too,” Bucky needled, smirking when Stark narrowed his eyes at him.

“You have no proof of that,” Stark protested, waving his screwdriver at Bucky threateningly. “And I won’t have you spreading these lies about my character! I have an image to maintain.”

Peter giggled, hopping up so he was seated on a rare clear space on the cluttered table in Stark’s lab. “Sure, if you say so, Mr. Stark.”

Stark turned to glare at the kid as Barton, Thor, and Steve walked into the lab. “What shit is Stark trying to sell?” Barton asked, gleefully latching onto the line of conversation.

Stark opened his mouth to no doubt protest, but Bucky immediately spoke over him. “We were discussin’ how the great Iron Man’s weakness is apparently a twelve-year-old child,” he grinned.

“I’m sixteen!” Peter squawked as the three newcomers laughed.

“The rise of Iron Dad,” Barton said, nodding sagely, though the image he was no doubt trying to convey of _wise, knowing super spy_ was ruined a bit by his shit-eating grin.

“Indeed, Man of Iron, fatherhood suits you,” Thor agreed in his booming voice, and Stark’s head dropped into his hand as he groaned.

“Traitors, the entire lot of you,” he accused, slitting his fingers apart so he could glare at them through his hand. “See if I make you any new gear. Also, when did you get in, Point Break? I thought you were still gallivanting around searching for some replacement drapes for your mother.” Stark dropped his hand and set down the screwdriver, leaning back against the table and reaching for a grimy-looking towel to wipe off his hands – though Bucky was doubtful the towel helped all that much. It really looked like it had seen better days.

Thor looked a little confused – a sentiment Bucky shared – but shrugged and said, “Loki and I wanted to check on our shield brothers and sisters here on Midgard.”

“Oh cool, Reindeer Games is here too? Fun, I wanted to ask him about that whole snake biting you prank thing again, gave me an idea for some new Widow Bites,” Stark grinned, and Bucky was starting to wonder if maybe they’d switched to a different language. Thor seemed to be back on track, though, because he grinned.

“Loki will be very pleased. He greatly enjoys telling that story – and your ideas on how to further utilize his pranks. You two make a fearsome duo,” the god of thunder said, looking amusedly weary at the declaration. Stark, however, beamed.

“Thanks, Point Break, I’ll take that as a compliment. As long as it’s not an Asgardian declaration of betrothal or something,” Stark added, and Thor simply looked bemused. Switching topics, Stark asked, “Not that you’re not welcome in the lab, but what are you all down here for anyway?” 

“We came to drag you guys out of the lab for movie night,” Steve responded, walking over to clap Bucky on the shoulder, smiling down at his long-time best friend. Peter brightened, jumping off the table a little too quickly and agilely to be believable for an unenhanced teenage boy – but again, Bucky seemed to be the only one who noticed. 

“It’s movie night again already? Ooh, what are we watching this time? Can we watch Empire Strikes Back? It’s been ages since I’ve gotten to watch the originals, and I bet it would be really fun to watch that one with Dr. Banner considering his expertise in nuclear physics,” Peter babbled, and Stark chuckled.

“Breathe, kid,” he said fondly, and Peter blushed. 

“Sorry,” Peter said, looking vaguely embarrassed, but the rest of the Avengers were smiling at the kid’s enthusiasm, Bucky included. 

“Sure, I don’t think I’ve seen Empire Strikes Back yet. Although it sounds familiar – I think someone else has mentioned it before,” Steve said, head tilting thoughtfully as he searched his memory. Bucky’s eyes locked on Peter’s expression as it turned from excited to _oh shit_ , followed by Steve’s triumphant noise. “That’s right, in Liepzig – the Spider guy was talking about it! I’ll admit, I’m a little curious about that reference, especially with how it relates to taking down Giant Man.” Peter looked like a fish out of water, mouth opening and shutting wordlessly, looking lost as to how to respond without giving himself away. 

“Wow, you and Spider-Man must have the same taste in movies, kiddo. What’re the chances,” Stark said blandly, and Bucky snickered at the evil grin on the genius’s face – then realized his mistake when Peter’s and Stark’s gazes snapped to him, Peter’s eyes wide and panicked, Stark’s expression…amused? Taking his cue from Stark’s expression, Bucky shrugged and smirked lazily. 

“You guys go ahead, we’ll catch up to you. I need to finish one last thing on Bucky’s arm and then we’ll be upstairs,” Stark said, waving the other trio away, and they grumbled something about starting without them if they weren’t upstairs in ten minutes but left the lab.

The lab door slid shut behind them, and Stark turned to Bucky, cocking one eyebrow expectantly. “So,” he drawled, “since when are you aware of our spider infestation?” Seeing a nervous Peter eyeing him worriedly, Bucky grinned and held his hands up sheepishly in a “you-caught-me” manner.

“Since the first night you brought the baby spider here,” Bucky admitted, and now Stark’s eyebrows were raised in surprise.

“Hey, I am _not_ a baby,” Peter protested indignantly, then frowned. “How – how did you know?” he asked hesitantly, looking concerned.

“You were interested in my arm,” Bucky said simply, and Peter and Stark both looked at him incredulously.

“That’s it?” Stark asked finally, and Bucky shrugged.

“Super soldier, remember? Had lotsa training in noticin’ things,” he reminded them.

“Well I’ll be damned,” Stark muttered, running a hand through his hair, mussing the rat’s nest up even further. “I really thought Natasha’d be the first one to figure it out. Or Barton, even.”

“Yeah, I’m not so impressed with our super spies at the moment,” Bucky agreed, snorting. He and Stark shared an amused grin. 

“You’re not gonna tell anyone, are you?” Peter asked worriedly, and Bucky shook his head emphatically.

“I can keep a secret, kiddo,” Bucky said, leaning forward and ruffling the kid’s hair.

“’m not a kid,” Peter pouted, crossing his arms, and Stark snickered.

“Not exactly convincing anyone with that expression, Pete,” Stark teased, and Peter turned and stuck his tongue out at him. Stark stuck his tongue out right back, and Bucky rolled his eyes.

“Pretty sure I know where he got his maturity level from, doll,” Bucky commented wryly, pushing himself to his feet. “We gonna go watch this movie or what?”

“Lead the way, Tasty Freeze,” Stark declared, gesturing grandly to the door. 

 

 

Tony had to say, Bucky Barnes really wasn’t what he’d expected. The stories of old had told of a womanizer, a ladies’ man who still somehow possessed the kind of chivalry that only truly existed in nostalgic reminiscing of a nonexistent golden past; the stories of new had spoken of a cold, dangerous killer with quiet steps and penetrating eyes that were sure to be the last thing you’d ever see.

The Bucky Tony was getting to know was a man who allowed Tony to direct FRIDAY to order his clothes and then, without a trace of shame, showed up bleary-eyed in the kitchen in the morning in gaudy red-and-gold Iron Man pajama pants, a “Falcon is My Co-Pilot” t-shirt, and the most ridiculous case of bedhead Tony’d ever seen.

“They’re comfy,” was all he’d said to a shell-shocked table of staring Avengers before heading straight for the coffee, pouring himself a mug and slinking out of the room.

“Y’know,” Clint said conversationally, “It’s a bit bizarre to have someone who was basically the bogeyman of the spy world waltz into our kitchen dressed like my 5-year-old son.”

“I heard that, Barton,” called Bucky’s voice from _much_ further away than it should’ve been for the super soldier to make out what Clint had said – well except for the fact that he was, ya know, _super_.

And the surprises hadn’t stopped there. Though it had taken a while for Tony to warm up to the guy – sue him, he felt like some reticence was a little understandable in his case – once he started getting to know Barnes, he didn’t really want to stop. The man practically breathed sarcasm, and Tony was positively delighted to have someone who would throw all his snark right back at him; but even with that, Barnes also still managed to somehow be unfailingly kind and considerate, listening to Tony go on for hours about his latest projects with an amused smile and a curious question here and there. 

He was a lesson in contradictions – sardonic but sweet, cynical but patient and understanding, dangerous in a fight but oh-so-gentle in every other aspect of his life, as far as Tony could see. And Bucky was _great_ his kid – er, _the_ kid. Peter.

Jesus, he had to stop being such a sentimental old fool; he could only imagine what the team would say if he ever accidentally called Peter his kid in front of them. He was pretty sure most of them were already half convinced Peter actually was his kid and he was just keeping it under wraps. 

But regardless – that might be the area where Bucky had impressed him the most. Who would expect the Winter Soldier to be good with kids? But the super soldier would listen to Peter chatter with even more patient enthusiasm than he did with Tony, indulgently letting Peter examine his metal arm to his heart’s content and letting Peter explain the scientific fallacies in Doctor Who and Star Wars until even Tony kind of wanted to strangle the poor kid. And once Peter’d warmed up to the super soldier, Bucky had even become a confidant of sorts. Sure, Pete still came to him for advice and encouragement all the time – but god, it warmed Tony’s heart to know that the kid had someone else he could go to on the team who’d pick him up when he was down and make sure he had his head on straight. The more people looking after his kid the better.

 _The_ kid, not _his_ kid, _god._

So Tony supposed it shouldn’t have been so much of a surprise to figure out his tentative tolerance turned appreciation turned like had somehow shifted into _like_ territory. Of course, he had to figure it out in the most innocuous of situations. Tony had been minding his own goddamn business, jamming along to ACDC while tweaking Bucky’s arm in their routine maintenance sessions when he dropped his stupid fucking screwdriver. And of fucking course, he and Bucky both went to pick it up, with the end result being their hands brushing and Tony looking up, startled, into clear blue eyes that were much, much closer to his own than he remembered them ever being before.

And like some sort of dumbass cheesy tween romcom, Tony froze and felt his heart skip a beat. _Oh_ , he thought, warmth shooting up his fingertips where they were brushing Bucky’s. Bucky seemed equally frozen, and Tony followed his eyes as they dipped down to Tony’s lips. A shiver raced up Tony’s spine, the mere idea that Bucky was transmitting sending heat flaring in his stomach. As though being pulled by an invisible string, he leaned in, closing the distance, until – 

CLANG!

Tony and Bucky sprang apart, Tony whirling around, on high alert at the idea of his lab being invaded, only to roll his eyes exasperatedly, heart hammering in his chest.

“Butterfingers, I told you to stop trying to pick up my tools unless absolutely necessary. You almost gave your poor old man a heart attack,” Tony scolded. Yeah, _that_ was why his heart was thundering in his chest. Looking anywhere but Bucky, Tony snatched up the screwdriver and set it on the table. “Right, um, I’m done with your arm, Snowflake, so I’m gonna – I have, y’know, business stuff to do, gotta go to the office and stuff, so I’ll see you around, ‘kay?”

And without waiting for a reply, Tony set off in very dignified not-run to the exit.

Well. Nobody had ever accused him of being well-adjusted.

 

 

Tony was _not_ avoiding Bucky – no matter what Bruce said. He was busy, okay? He had sciencey stuff to do.

“Whatever you say, Tin Man,” Bruce said dubiously, and Tony peeked over the top of the Iron Man suit’s shoulder to shoot him a glare before returning his attention to the suit’s arm, which had been sticking just enough for Tony to notice. Bruce continued, “I, for one, think you should get over your emotional stunting and just ask the poor guy out on a date. Heaven knows he’s been moping around the communal areas enough over the past couple of days waiting on you to get it together. And for what it’s worth, the Hulk agrees with me.”

“Ganging up on me, Big Guys?” Tony complained. “You’d think I could get at least one of you on my side.”

“We’re all on your side, Mr. Stark,” Peter piped up from where he was fiddling with god-knows-what on the other side of the lab. Whoops, Tony should probably be supervising him a little more closely, there was some dangerous stuff in here. But whatever, Bruce was watching him. Tony hoped. “We just want you to be happy, and you always smile when Uncle Bucky is around.”

“Uncle Bucky, is it?” Tony asked amusedly, still tweaking the suit’s arm. If he could just get that panel to shift to the left just a smidge…

“And what is Tony?” Bruce asked, mischief clear in his voice. Peter sputtered, none of the noises coming from his mouth coherent, but Tony was too focused on the armor to notice. 

“Got it!” he exclaimed triumphantly, pulling back and patting the armor with a grin. “We always work through our problems, don’t we,” he said to it indulgently, wiping a few beads of sweat off his forehead. From his new vantage point, he could see Bruce roll his eyes.

“You realize it’s a little weird that you talk to the armor, right?” Bruce questioned, and Tony shrugged nonchalantly.

“I’m Iron Man, so I like to think of it as talking to myself – and I’m way more interesting than any of you losers,” Tony responded haughtily, tossing his tools down and walking over to Bruce. 

“Not sure I can refute that one,” Bruce muttered, and Tony grabbed his chest in mock offense.

“I’m hurt, Brucie Bear, really, I am,” he said sincerely, pouting.

“Uh – is this a bad time? I was hoping to talk to Tony.” A familiar voice, a voice Tony had been trying and succeeding at avoiding for the past couple of days, sounded from the doorway.

“Yes,” Tony said quickly at the same time Bruce said, “No.” Tony glared at Bruce, who smiled innocently. 

“It’s not a bad time, Bucky! Dr. Banner and I were just leaving,” Peter called, and Tony whirled to stare at him as the boy stood, dusting his hands off on his jeans. He beamed beatifically at Tony, quickly crossing the room and nudging Bruce. “I wanted to pick his brain on proton spin properties in MRIs – thought I might do my chemistry paper on it.”

Bruce grinned wickedly, slinging an arm around Peter’s shoulder. “Always happy to help a fellow scientist. Let’s go to _my_ lab, I can show you what some real fun equipment looks like. You kids have fun,” he called over his shoulder as he steered Peter out of the lab.

“Betrayed,” Tony called after them. “By my own offspring, no less!”

The door slid shut behind them, and then it was just Tony and a very awkward-looking super soldier fidgeting in his doorway. Well that just wouldn’t do.

“You can come further in, Robo Cop,” Tony said easily, trying for levity as he waved Bucky into his lab. The nickname seemed to do something to relax the super soldier, some of the tension draining from his shoulders. Bucky took a few steps further into the room, and Tony leaned onto the table behind him. “You wanted to talk to me?” he prompted, and Bucky nodded, looking adorably uncertain. No, not adorably – annoyingly. Annoyingly is what he meant. Gah, what was annoying was that he found it adorable, if he was being honest with himself, which he tried never to do. 

“I just wanted to apologize if I did somethin’ to offend you,” Bucky said carefully, and Tony frowned.

“Did something – what’re you talking about, Snowflake?” he asked confusedly, and now Bucky looked confused.

“I just – you’ve been avoidin’ me, I thought I musta done something,” he said, and Tony blanched. Trust him to fuck up without even saying a word.

“No, no, you didn’t do anything, I just – “ Tony broke off frustratedly, uncertain how to explain away his behavior without uttering the words _giant fucking crush_ and _sorry I’m emotionally stunted and get attached to people who show me the slightest bit of kindness and also you’re ridiculously hot so can you stop please_. Somehow, he didn’t picture either of those sentiments going over well. He cleared his throat. “I’ve just been busy,” he finished lamely. Bucky shot him a dubious look, but Tony crossed his fingers, hoping he’d be allowed to get away with his pathetic excuse.

No such luck.

“C’mon, Tony, I know when I’m being avoided,” Bucky disagreed, and Tony wrinkled his nose. Right, super soldier with decades of training in stealth and human behavior. “I’m just not really sure why. I know it has to be hard for you to have me around because of…your parents. I thought we’d been workin’ past it an’ gettin’ kinda close, but I musta misread.” Oh god, he looked so dejected with those puppy-dog eyes. Tony tried to jump in, but Bucky held up a hand. “Wait, just let me say my piece. If it’s too hard to have me around, I can find somewhere else to live,” he offered, eyes earnest and vulnerable.

Fuck, well now Tony really felt like a jerk.

“No, Bucky, you don’t need to move out – “ Tony started.

“It’s your house, Tony, I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable – “

“You’re not making me uncomfortable, Snowflake – “

“I mean I did terrible things, and I can understand if you’d rather not have that in your home – “

“It wasn’t you, Bucky, and I know the difference now, I don’t blame you anymore – “

“…You don’t?”

Tony drew up short, shooting Bucky an incredulous look, about to shoot off a flippant response – because god, it’d been a few months, and he’d had enough time by now to process his grief and place the blame for his parents’ deaths on Hydra where it properly belonged. But Bucky looked stunned and a little shaken. Had he really thought Tony’d held a grudge the whole time?

“Of course not,” Tony said softly but firmly, holding eye contact with the ex-assassin. “I know I didn’t take the news well in Siberia, but now that I’m not blindsided by the news and the fact that Steve knew all that time and didn’t tell me, I can very definitively say that I don’t blame you. My parents’ murders were Hydra’s fault.”

Bucky stared at him, looking almost lost. “I…just like that?” he asked, voice breaking. “I never even properly apologized. You’d just let the whole thing go? I…I killed your parents – how can you just let that go?” And he looked abashed and tortured, eyes dropping to the floor.

Tony shrugged, heart twinging – because yeah, he didn’t blame Bucky, but he’d admit sometimes it still felt…odd to have the hands that killed his father and strangled his mother in such close proximity. But all the same – “You suffered, too. And it might be your body that killed my parents, but it wasn’t you,” he said simply, and Bucky just looked astonished. There was a pregnant pause in which the super soldier stared at him, looking like his entire world had changed.

“I’m still sorry,” he said finally, and another fragment of Tony’s heart knit itself back together. He exhaled, not having realized until that moment how he’d kind of needed to hear those words, to know that Tony’s pain actually did _matter_ to someone. Because despite the fact that the Avengers had all returned and they had re-formed their dysfunctional but nonetheless loving family and Steve had (sort of but not really) apologized, he’d still felt like his betrayal ahd been brushed under the rug, at least a bit.

So for Bucky, who Tony maintained truly was an innocent party and didn’t owe him any apologies, for _Bucky_ to see that Tony was still hurting and take responsibility and want to make it better – well, Tony supposed it probably spoke to some of his shittier experiences with people that the sentiment almost brought him to his knees. 

“You don’t have anything to apologize for – but, if it helps, I forgive you,” Tony said, and Bucky looked at him like Tony had given him the greatest gift in the world. And god, Tony wished he could show Bucky just how much his apology meant to Tony. 

 

 

Something shifted after that interaction; Tony couldn’t say what it was, but it wasn’t the same as whatever had happened the day he’d dropped the screwdriver and they’d had a _moment_. That, he could dismiss as a schoolyard crush, physical attraction and a shared sense of humor claiming a brief, superficial part of his attention.

This was something altogether different, something Tony didn’t think he’d ever really had before – even with Pepper. He and Pepper had shared a love for Stark Industries, had shared some traumatic experiences usually due to some stupid shit he’d pulled that she’d ended up sucked into, had shared a relationship built on friendship and trust – but at the end of the day, there were more differences between them than similarities. Pepper had never quite gotten his way of thinking, had never understood why or how he could fling himself into the line of fire so willingly over and over again. She hadn’t been as damaged as him, either, and he’d felt the need to shield her from the worst parts of himself. 

Bucky, though, had been through even more than him, had seen some of the worst parts of Tony and still kept coming back, joining him in his lab for more than just repairs and maintenance now, laughing and teasing and joking and snarking right along with the genius. But not just that – he was there on Tony’s bad nights, and he seemed to know exactly when Tony needed quiet, calming company to chase away the remnants of the nightmares and when he needed to be distracted from anxious thoughts. And Tony was able to do the same for him when the super soldier would wordlessly file into his lab at a strange hour, stealthy and deadly and haunted in a way that he only got when the Soldier had been a bit more present in his dreams than he could easily tolerate.

It was a symbiotic relationship of sorts, to Tony’s mind – Bucky made him feel better, he made Bucky feel better, and making Bucky feel better made Tony feel good. All in all, Tony was feeling better than he had in…well, he couldn’t remember how long, actually. So much so that others were starting to notice.

“You seem really good, Mr. Stark,” Peter commented one day, seemingly out of the blue, perched in his usual spot on the lab table and watching Tony fiddle with a new design for some arrows for Hawkeye. 

“Hm? Thanks, kid,” Tony responded distractedly.

“Is it because you and Bucky’s anniversary is coming up?” Peter asked, and fuck, now he had Tony’s attention.

“What?” Tony barked, and Peter looked startled at his response.

“It’s been a month since you and Bucky – you know.” Peter gestured vaguely, and Tony stared at him.

“Um, no, I don’t know, kid. What the fuck are you talking about?” Tony demanded, arrows forgotten. Peter tilted his head, eyeing Tony with no small degree of confusion.

“Are you guys trying to keep it quiet or something? Because I’m pretty sure everyone knows – you guys started getting all touchy and secrety a month ago after Uncle Buck wanted to “talk” to you,” Peter said, putting up swear-to-god air quotes around the word talk. Tony was flabbergasted – everyone knew _what_?

“Kid, I hate to break it to you, but we really did just “talk”,” Tony said, mocking the air quotes, and the disbelieving look Peter sent him had Tony blinking.

“I’m 16, Mr. Stark, I know what it means when grownups say they need to “talk” and then get the way you and Uncle Bucky have been the past month,” Peter insisted, crossing his arms and looking at Tony sternly, and Tony had the distinct impression that he was being scolded by his kid - _the_ kid. Tony threw his hands up exasperatedly.

“FRIDAY, back me up here, baby girl,” he called.

“Boss and Mr. Barnes talked for a while that night, and then Mr. Barnes left the lab with no other actions. No actions matching your insinuations have occurred since that date, either,” FRIDAY dutifully reported.

“Thanks, baby girl,” Tony smiled triumphantly at Peter, who was looking a strange mixture of confused and supremely disappointed.

“Wait, really?” Peter demanded. “You guys haven’t been dating?”

“What? No! Dating? Seriously, that’s what everyone thinks?” Tony asked, progressively dismayed and mentally reviewing his and Bucky’s interactions over the last months. While there was no denying they’d been spending a lot of time together and knew each other a lot better now, Tony thought Bucky’d been sending pretty strong _we make really good pals, you can be my bestie after Steve_ vibes from the other man. 

“I mean, yeah?” Peter said, like it should be really obvious. “You guys spend basically all your time together, and you have all these little inside jokes, and he looks at you like, I dunno, like you hung the moon or something.”

“He does not,” Tony protested, now beyond certain the kid was hallucinating. But Peter cocked an eyebrow at him – and fuck, Tony was rubbing off on the boy.

“Does too,” he retorted, then gave him a measuring look. “And you look at him the same way.”

“That,” Tony hesitated, then decided what the hell, “might be true,” he admitted. 

“You _do_ have a crush on him!” Peter crowed, pointing a victorious accusing finger at him. Tony reached out, ruffling his hair and pushing his head down gently.

“Crush sounds so junior high, kid,” Tony grumbled, and Peter grinned, former discontent seemingly gone in the blink of an eye.

“But that’s great! Because he totally feels the same way about you,” Peter declared, and Tony snorted, leaning heavily against the table.

“No, he doesn’t,” Tony said confidently. 

“He does, too,” Peter said stubbornly. “I don’t know why you think he doesn’t. You should see the way he looks at you when he thinks you aren’t looking.” Tony ignored the tendril of hope wanting to unfurl in his chest, sighing heavily.

“I’m a mess, kid, he doesn’t want any piece of this – trust me. I’ve had enough experience that I would know,” Tony said, trying to project nonchalance but knowing some bleakness bled its way into his tone by the concerned look Peter shot him.

“I don’t think that’s true, Mr. Stark,” Peter said hesitantly, pausing then looking like he was steeling himself. “If there’s anyone in the world who’s probably as big a mess as you, if not more, it’s probably Bucky. You guys are practically made for each other.” Tony gave him a tired smile.

“And why’s that?”

“Because he’s a really good man who the world has been really mean to – and so are you, Mr. Stark,” Peter said, and the earnest belief is so clear in his voice that Tony feels paralyzed. But only for a moment, and then he’s dragging the boy to his chest and crushing him into a hug.

“What did I ever do to deserve you, kiddo,” Tony murmured, and Peter squeezes him, face buried in Tony’s chest. When they break away, Tony tries to discreetly wipe at his damp eyes, pinning Peter with a stern look. “If you tell anyone I got teary, I’ll downgrade your suit so it runs on Windows 7,” he threatened.

“You wouldn’t dare!”

 

 

It’s easy to see that the team thinks he and Bucky are a _thing_ after that – the way that, when Bucky beats Tony to the breakfast table, they leave a seat open beside him for Tony to slide into later; the way Bruce moved to a different couch on movie nights so that Tony can sit between Peter and Bucky; the way Clint fake-retches any time Bucky refers to Tony as “doll” or Tony pats the super soldier on his metal arm. He can’t believe he didn’t catch on to the team’s assumption sooner.

It makes his “crush” even more unbearable; now, every time he and Bucky brushed or Bucky called him some endearing nickname, he felt himself go red, had to will back the instinct to stutter an excuse and dash away that automatically wanted to assert itself. He’d convinced himself that any flirtation or attraction was in his head before, but to hear that it was in everyone else’s heads too only cruelly made him get his hopes up.

And now Tony, tactile person that he was, had already set up the understanding between them that casual touches were okay by his past actions – a mistake that was _wrecking_ him now. 

“Behind you, moye serdtse,” Bucky murmured in his ear as Tony poured himself a cup of coffee, causing Tony to startle enough to nearly drop his mug, coffee slopping over the edges.

“Jesus, Frosty, make a noise,” Tony scolded, reaching for paper towels to wipe up the mess. Bucky chuckled lowly behind him, and they were pressed close enough that Tony could feel the rumble of laughter in his chest as Bucky reached up to open the cabinet above Tony’s head, grabbing a mug. 

“Sorry, doll,” he said, sounding smugly unrepentant. Tony huffed.

“Somehow, I don’t believe you,” Tony said, turning around – and dear Lord, that was a mistake. Bucky hadn’t moved back, all of his unfair attractiveness pressed in Tony’s space. Tony froze, looking up into somehow-warm ice blue eyes, a lazy smirk, and sleep-ruffled hair that Tony had the sudden creepy urge to run his fingers through. 

“What can I say, I have trouble regrettin’ anything that gets me that much closer to something I want in the morning,” Bucky said blithely, and Tony’s eyes widened, shocked – until he realized Bucky was talking about the coffee, _of course_ he was talking about the coffee, _geez_ could Tony’s hindbrain shut up for like ten minutes?

“Get a fucking room, you two,” Clint hollered from the table.

“Indeed, it’s a little early for such blatant mating rituals,” Loki’s amused drawl sent flares of heat across Tony’s cheeks, and Bucky’s eyes dropped to the reddened areas, a curious, (dare he say) hopeful smile spreading over the ex-assassin’s face.

“Eagle One and Rock of Ages, you’re about to taste the wrath of a higher form of being that made it past the Stone Age,” Tony threatened, tearing his gaze away from Bucky to glare at them. Loki cocked an unimpressed eyebrow at him, swirling his fork in the mountain of syrup that coated his eggs – which, _ew_.

“Aren’t I the higher form of being?” Loki wondered. “Being a god and all.”

“Only one god,” Steve started.

“And I’m pretty sure he doesn’t dress like that,” Natasha, Clint, Bruce, and Tony finished along with Steve. Steve glared at them while the others grinned at each other, Thor, Vision, and Loki sporting bemused smiles; by now, Steve’s petulant remark was all but legendary among the Avengers, whether they’d been there for it or not. 

“Although a god who wears booty shorts and a Care Bear t-shirt to bed might be one I’d be willing to pray to,” Natasha said thoughtfully, eyeing the god of mischief. Loki sputtered indignantly.

“I was told these are typical Midgardian sleepwear!” Loki screeched, and Tony and Clint took one look at each other and burst into laughter. Loki looked from one to the other, wide-eyed. “What is the meaning of “booty shorts”? And I was told the creature on the shirt was a reference to some deity humans worship in their youth – that is true, yes?” Loki demanded, progressing quickly from bewildered to accusatory, and Tony and Clint howled with laughter, aiming an air-five at each other across the room for a prank well played, the rest of the Avengers snickering with them. 

“Boss, I hate to interrupt, but there’s been a disturbance in lower Manhattan,” FRIDAY’s voice sounded over the speakers, uncharacteristically pinched with worry.

“A disturbance?” It figured that Captain America shot to attention the quickest. “What kind of disturbance, FRIDAY?”

“It looks like Dr. Doom has created an all new set of Doom Bots and is attempting to take over the financial district,” FRIDAY reported. Tony rolled his eyes, irritated; he wasn’t the only one to share the sentiment.

“Ugh, couldn’t he have waited until after I’d finished my coffee,” Clint bitched, staring forlornly at his half-empty mug. Captain America fixed him with a severe glare, and Tony held back a smirk; finally, someone else getting that glare aimed at them.

“Justice waits for no one,” the Captain intoned, and Tony was thrilled to see Bucky shake his head exasperatedly.

“Jesus, Stevie, you’re not tryin’ to sell war bonds anymore – you can loosen up a little,” Bucky said, and Tony snickered. Bucky’s gaze returned to him, smiling indulgently, and Tony’s heart stuttered. God, he was pathetic.

Thankfully, the need for the Avengers to assemble gave him a fantastic excuse to make his exit, dashing to his lab to assemble the armor and flying out of his lab a moment later, aiming for the financial district. Vision and Thor flew behind him, hammer leading the god’s way, and the quinjet trailed behind them with the rest of the team.

“Thor, Vision, and Iron Man, you’re on air support,” Steve ordered from the jet, and Tony suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. They were obviously always air support.

“Aye aye, oh Captain, my Captain,” Tony acknowledged dutifully.

“I will watch the skies, Captain,” Thor affirmed.

“Ready for battle, Captain Rogers,” Vision said calmly. 

“Hawkeye, Iron Man will give you a lift to the Empire State Building and you’ll assist Iron Man, Thor, and Vision with making sure the skies are clear,” Steve continued, waiting for Clint’s acknowledgment. “Winter Soldier, Black Widow, Loki, Hulk, and I will engage from the ground – Black Widow and I will target Dr. Doom, Hulk, Winter Soldier, and Loki will contain the Doom Bots on the ground and protect civilians.”

“Uh, Cap, you sure it’s smart not to bring along a magic user to challenge Doom? No offense to you and Widow, but you’re both pretty human, even if one of you is a little more enhanced. Doom’s got powers,” Tony commented worriedly, darting through a cloud and eyeing the land below them, searching out the first sign of Doom Bots. 

“We’ll be fine, Iron Man,” Steve said dismissively, and Tony fought the urge to argue. Steve was the leader, and he wasn’t about to re-enact their civil war without proof that civilians would be in danger if he didn’t.

Putting all other thoughts out of his mind except the mission Steve had assigned him and Thor, Tony narrowed his focus to the task at hand as they closed in on the financial district. Dr. Doom was definitely on-site, Doom Bots in full automated glory, and Tony couldn’t help but scoff at their rudimentary designs as compared to his Iron Legion. Granted, there were a fuck ton more of the bots than Tony had made of his legion, but quality over quantity, right?

They formed a swarm both on land and in the sky, and Tony focused in. He yanked Hawkeye off the quinjet, placing him quickly on the vacated Empire State Building, and he, Vision, and Thor bobbed and wove in the skies, rolling and shooting and blasting the fuckers out of their airspace. The bots were primarily machine, unlike the AIs who piloted his legion, and, as such, they had to directly follow whatever the most recent order given by their commander was without any creative license – which, as far as Tony could tell, was simply “attack.” It wasn’t difficult to anticipate their moves and counter them. The challenge mostly came from the sheer number of them as compared to the Avengers.

But Tony stood by his earlier thoughts and the motivation behind most of what he designed for SI – quality over quantity. 

All the same, he was unsurprised to note that some of their ground forces were tiring. While he, Thor, Loki, and Vision didn’t rely on their own physical strength quite as much to pack a punch, the same couldn’t be said for the rest of their forces, and it was clear that the sheer number of bots was wearing on them.

“Hey guys! Is it okay for me to join the party?” Peter’s chipper voice chimed over their coms, and Tony felt a familiar clenching of his heart, wanting nothing more than to tell the boy to _go home_.

“Spider-Man,” he gritted out instead. “What are you doing here, shouldn’t you be – busy?” In school, Tony asked silently, not wanting to give any hints to Peter’s identity away.

“Free for the next 45 minutes, figured I’d come help out,” Peter responded cheerfully, and Tony vented his frustration at the next bot that dared close in on him, blasting it out of the sky.

“Right, well. Be careful, kid,” Tony said in as normal a tone as he could manage.

“Seconded,” Bucky growled over the line, and Tony may or may not have fallen a little bit more in love with the man.

“Sure thing, Iron Man, Winter Soldier,” Peter chirped, and Tony forced himself to focus on being the air support the team needed, blasting the Doom Bots with what was possibly more viciousness than necessary, but he was ready for this fight to be fucking over with already. 

He supposed he really only had himself to blame for what happened, in the end.

He’d made sure FRIDAY kept him informed as to where _exactly_ Peter was located at all times, and he may or may not have been aerially stalking the web-slinger, making sure he was positioned directly above his kid so he could swoop in at the first sign of trouble. This had served to be both relieving and anxiety-inducing for him as he could be certain at all times that his boy wasn’t in trouble – but could see all the trouble aimed Peter’s way.

So when a team of Doom Bots all turned towards Peter at the same time, could Tony really be blamed for focusing his attention on knocking every single one of the goddamn fuckers who dared threaten his precious child out of the fucking sky?

Even if it left him a little vulnerable?

“Iron Man, incoming on your six!” Hawkeye called out frantically, and Tony blasted the last of the doomed Doom Bots targeting his kid out of the sky before paying proper attention to Clint’s warning. But at that point it was too late, and an explosion the likes of which even the great weapons expert Tony Stark hadn’t seen aimed at one singular person lit up the sky, the combined firepower of multiple Doom Bots blasting Tony into the side of a building, and Tony watched disconnectedly as his world went dark.

Hey, if Peter made it, it was more than worth his own shitty life, after all.

 

“Tony, oh God, Tony, please wake up,” a familiar authoritative voice called frantically through a long, long tunnel, and Tony wanted to hum his confirmation of reluctant life in response but found that his vocal cords were feeling entirely uncooperative. Well, that was inconvenient.

“Captain, is he okay?” a female voice inquired, tone calm and controlled, but Tony thought he could hear the undercurrent of concern expertly hidden to all who didn’t know her intimately. Did he know her intimately? He couldn’t remember at the moment.

“He’s breathing steadily, and he has a pulse,” the first voice responded tightly.

“Those are great signs, Captain,” another voice soothed – a voice Tony recognized. Someone powerful, if Tony’s scattered memory could be trusted. A god? Was that a thing? Fuck, Tony couldn’t remember at the moment. Did he believe in God? In gods, plural? Ugh, what was his life that he had to draw a distinction between the two? He could feel his own previous exasperation, and that gave him hope for further recovery – although such recovery apparently didn’t currently include reassuring whoever was discussing him. But the third voice continued, “I believe I sense steady signs of life from him.”

“Are you sure?” the first voice – the Captain, he guessed – asked desperately. “Can you tell if he’s okay?”

The third voice hesitated. “I don’t know if he’s what mortals consider functional or not,” the voice admitted, and the first and second voices let out identical noises of concern. The third voice hastened to continue, “It’s a very good sign that he’s functioning well enough for me to detect consciousness, but I’m not familiar enough with the human brain to tell if that’s considered humanity or not.”

Tony supposed that made sense. Or did it? Did it make sense, or was he just so fucked that _anything_ would make sense at this point?

But as he blinked his eyes open to the concerned expressions of people he recognized and managed to name as Steve, Natasha, and Loki swam into focus, he figured he was most likely alright…? His memory was returning, at least, so that was something. 

Loki was the one who first saw him return to awareness. “Mr. Stark,” he said calmly, but with some measure of relief, and Natasha and Steve’s eyes shot to him immediately, crowding in with concern.

“Tony – “

“Oh god, are you okay – “

“ _Dad_!” 

And that last one had definitely not come from any of the three hovering over him. Tony jerked his head toward the noise and pushed himself into a seated position from where he was crumpled against the ground, groaning slightly in pain at the movement but eyes latching onto a familiar red-and-blue suit as the wearer latched onto him.

“Dad, are you okay? Oh my god, you just got launched into a building, of course you’re not okay – but please tell me you’re okay, you have to be okay, you can’t leave me.” Peter’s voice was frantic and horrified, ripping Tony’s heart into shreds with its desperation.

“I’d never leave you,” Tony tried to say, but he was pretty sure it came out as “Nggeyu.” Which wasn’t nearly as comforting, but Tony’s voice wouldn’t cooperate, head spinning and discombobulated as he tried to form words. 

Thank fuck, the battle had apparently ended, and the entire rest of their team was quickly gathering in front of him, including some people who apparently even spoke imbecile, if their sympathetic looks at Tony were to be interpreted. Thor had one hand on the Hulk’s shoulder in a manner that seemed to be both comforting and restraining at the same time, but the others crowded into Tony’s space, identical expressions of concern all around. Bucky and Peter, thank god, were the closest of all, though their terrified expressions tore at Tony’s heart. Loki laid a comforting hand on his boy’s shoulder, looking uncharacteristically concerned but comforting.

“Tony will be fine, Peter,” Loki said, more earnest and reassuring than Tony had ever heard him. A shudder rolled through Peter before he glanced away from Tony just long enough to aim a grateful smile at the god, and Tony longed to be able to comfort his boy himself.

“…Wait, did you just say Peter?” Steve demanded, and Spider-Man’s guilty eyes darted from the former villain to the hero. Loki, on the other hand, just looked at Steve in confusion.

“Was I not supposed to?” he asked, tilting his head in bewilderment, and Steve’s incredulous gaze switched from Loki to the still-masked Spider-Man.

“You’re not Peter,” Steve stated, conviction simultaneously evident and unconvinced, and Tony had no idea how the fuck that man managed to convey both of those emotions in three words. Peter fidgeted nervously.

“Nope, not even a little, totally not Peter,” Peter said in a high-pitched, nervous voice, and Tony wanted to face palm. If there was any way to confirm your secret identity, it was by unconvincingly denying it. Or acknowledging it outright, if you were an outrageous prick like Tony, but that didn’t apply to Peter.

What _did_ apply to Peter was the shell-shocked manner in which the group treated Peter’s revelation. 

“Not possible,” Captain America denied emphatically, and Spider-Man flinched while Loki raised an amused eyebrow.

“You didn’t know?” the god questioned, eyeing Steve doubtfully. Steve’s eyes darted back and forth between Loki and Peter as though he didn’t know who to focus his outrage on. His gaze locked onto Spider-Man’s guilty stance, and Tony could see the moment Steve went from disbelieving to the realm of shocked.

“Of course not! How did _you_ know?” Steve cried, and honestly Tony kind of wanted to know the answer to that question as well, though his desire felt more detached than he thought it should’ve. Loki frowned at Steve.

“I’m the god of tricksters – if a human were able to pull the proverbial wool over my eyes, it would be the ultimate insult,” Loki said haughtily, as though it should be obvious that his species was too far above the human race to be impressed by such parlor tricks. 

Bucky stepped in as though summoned by Loki’s disdain. Or maybe Tony’s and Steve’s distress – honestly Tony wouldn’t have been surprised if Bucky had placed some sort of stress monitor on them both so he could intervene when anything went even the slightest bit south.

“C’mon, Stevie, you gotta admit it wasn’t too much of a leap – Petey and Spider-Man have basically every single thing in common, from movies to a major attachment to Tony,” Bucky said, letting some amusement bleed into his voice, which had the bonus effect of dissolving some of the tension in the air. But Steve just looked more put-out.

“You knew, too?” he asked, turning wounded eyes on his fellow super soldier. Bucky must’ve had some major experience dealing with those eyes, though, because he just shrugged and smiled sheepishly.

“Figured it out pretty quick, but Pete asked me to keep his secret and I didn’t see any harm,” he acknowledged, and Steve looked like he wanted to chime in with some measure of outrage, but a snort sounded behind him.

“Well now I’m just offended on behalf of my own spy skills,” Clint grumbled, rolling his eyes but aiming a grin at Peter. “Glad to have you on the team, Spider-Kid.”

“Yes, you fight most bravely, young warrior,” Thor boomed, clapping Peter’s uniform-clad shoulder, and the boy staggered.

Vision was next, nodding at the boy in his Zen-like way. “I am glad to have another on the team who wishes to protect Sir from himself,” he said, and Tony felt like he should be offended, but mostly he was just entertained.

“Hulk like baby spider,” the Hulk agreed – and thank god Peter had enough sense not to argue with _the Hulk_ referring to him as a baby spider, though Bucky snickered in amusement. Natasha nodded.

“Agreed,” she affirmed, offering Peter a smile. And even through the mask, Tony could tell Peter was overwhelmed – with relief, with joy, with the sheer happiness of being accepted by one’s family – and it was a _good_ thing, but it was also a lot to process. And frankly, the middle of a half-broken district was probably not the place for such processing – which meant it was Tony’s time to step in.

“Well, this has been heartwarming, but maybe we should take this little shindig back to the Tower?” he drawled, pushing himself to his feet, though his entire body groaned in protest. As one, all eyes snapped to him, the revelation that he could _actually_ form full sentences again meriting the return of their attention.

“Tony!”

“Thank god, you’re okay!”

“You dumbass, if you ever do that to us again – “

“Hulk glad Tin Man okay.”

But all of their heartwarmingly relieved sentiments faded away when Tony made eye contact with Bucky, who looked simultaneously murderous and overjoyed, stepping into Tony’s space with a glint of intent in his eyes that Tony couldn’t quite place, and he wasn’t sure if he should be excited or scared – and then it didn’t matter anymore, because Bucky was closing the distance, leaning in and kissing Tony for all that he was worth. And if Tony made a surprised noise, well, that was his own goddamned business, and he could definitely not be held accountable for any and every noise he made with the feeling of Bucky’s lips against his; because if he’d thought he felt warm when they brushed fingers, that was nothing compared to how felt like now. It was as though every inch of him was being lit on fire, warmth licking through him with a kind of pleasurable intent, razing everything in its path and leaving Tony with nothing else but the desire for _more, god, please let this never end_.

Distantly, he heard someone wolf-whistle.

“Oh, ew, c’mon,” Peter’s voice protested, though Tony could hear the unrestrained glee in his voice. And when he and Bucky broke apart, the space between them still charged, he pointed one gauntleted finger at his kid, narrowing his eyes.

“Don’t sass your dad and uncle,” Tony scolded, and Tony had to wonder if he’d programmed the suit to convey expressions because he was pretty sure he could see Peter go wide-eyed. He grinned, heart feeling entirely too full. “Yeah, that’s right, I heard you, kiddo.”

“Uh – I just, it was just a slip, no big deal,” Peter stumbled over his words, and Tony rolled his eyes affectionately.

“Very big deal,” he disagreed, giving Peter a soft smile, and the boy fell silent, fidgeting uncertainly. Well that just wouldn’t do. “Come _here_ , Spiderling,” Tony said, opening his arms, and Peter lit up, launching himself at Tony and encasing him in what was possibly the warmest hug Tony’d ever received. Tony laughed, dropping a kiss to the top of the kid’s still-masked head.

“I was so worried,” Peter said, voice muffled against Tony’s chest, and Tony squeezed him comfortingly.

“Hey, none of that, I’ve taken way worse hits and come out alright,” Tony reassured him, but apparently that wasn’t exactly the right thing to say. Peter drew back, aiming what Tony was beyond certain was a glare at him.

“That does _not_ make me feel better,” he said accusingly, and Bucky snorted beside him.

“You and me both, kid,” he agreed, giving Tony an affectionately scolding smile. “You gotta take better care of yourself, doll.”

“Okay, can I just point out our line of work and the fact that every single one of us takes bad hits in pretty much every fight,” Tony protested petulantly.

“Yeah but you have like no self-preservation skills,” Clint chimed in, and Tony glared at him. Which apparently had _no_ intimidation effect – god, Tony had to step up his game – because Clint rolled his eyes, continuing, “Fuck’s sake, you flew a nuke into space, you self-sacrificing little shit!”

“I’m with Barton on this one, Tony, you need to cool it with the near death experiences. Only so many times my heart can take you playing the sacrificial lamb card,” Natasha agreed, smiling demurely at him when Tony turned his betrayed glare on her. 

“Hulk agree, Tin Man take too many risks.” Tony stared at him.

“You too, Big Guy?” And the Hulk had the nerve to _shrug_ at him.

“Indeed, Man of Iron, you should allow the rest of us some of the glory of being willing to sacrifice ourselves for our shield brothers and sisters,” Thor concurred, and honestly enough was enough.

“Oh my _god_ , I just got smashed into a building and now you guys are ganging up on me, come on,” Tony complained, ignoring when Peter muttered something under his breath along the lines of _honestly feeling so attacked right now_ and good grief would that kid ever get tired of his memes, he was a _menace_.

Bucky laughed, pressing a sloppy kiss to his cheek. “Get used to it, doll – you got people lookin’ after you, now.” And fuck if that statement didn’t send warmth shooting through him for entirely different reasons than earlier.

“Yeah! Tony Stark Defense Squad!” Peter chimed in, sounding entirely too delighted, and Tony groaned. That was going to become a thing, he just knew it.

“You’re incorrigible, the whole lot of you,” he said, unable to wipe the smile off his face.

“And you love us for it,” Peter countered, and Tony smiled softly at him.

“Yeah, I really do,” he agreed, pulling Peter in by the shoulders for a quick side-hug. “Let’s go home, guys.”

**Author's Note:**

> moye serdtse - my heart


End file.
